Summer: John Denver. . Silently the morning mist is lying on the water. Captive moonlight waiting for the dawn. Softly like a baby's breath a breeze begins to whisper.
Here I sit in my room. And I feel like I'm doomed. Cause it's snowing and cold outside. Winter sports are okay. But they don't make my day. And I hate being stuck inside.
Saturday night. the summer's here. under clothes. hands disappear. buttons slip. they've gone stray. with them thoughts. have gone away. too far to see.